Just as Before
by insulife
Summary: England smirked at his own display of power, pausing cautiously, "I don't need a hero. I just need the sunshine." USUK. Early HBD.


Geez, finally got around to uploading here! Took me about 2 years, but finally I've done it. US/UK Oneshot written for one of my best friends ever. You'll always be a sister to me and I will always be here for you. I love you very much! I hope you enjoy the story, Snuffleuffagus! Also, written for July the 4th. We have Burn Bans where I'm at so we can't do any fireworks! I'm sorry, Alfie! You'll just have to suffice in this story I write. Anyhow, moving on. Enjoy the story, all who read it! R&R, maybe? ...maybe? I may not reply to all of them but like on dA, I always read them and they're very helpful. Aha, again. I LOVE YOU, SNUFFLEUFFAGUS!

Ah, in other news, human/nation names used. Hope it's not confusing. As always, I am merely a geek who loves to write and was too lazy to come up with my own characters to do this(for those of nongeekness, this means I own nothing). Enjoy.

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><p>"Oh for the love of-! America, get out of my bedroom!" The smaller nation screeched, flailing an arm behind him in a lazy defense of the intruding American.<p>

Alfred, who had snuck beneath the very sheets that England was sleeping with, worried his lower lip in silence as he scooted back, refusing to get out of the bed. "Alfred. Out, now! Have you no sense of personal space?" Again, America stayed in silence as England tried calming from his rant. "If you didn't want me here then why did you invite me to come?" The larger of the two finally spoke, staring in an intent silence at the back of Arthur's head.

Silence bit on, save for the rain battering the window the small man stared out of. After a considerable amount of silent tension dancing through the air, Arthur spoke softly. "I wanted-ah, well, because it's raining." Alfred snorted, reaching an arm around the curled nation. "H-heh, that's funny, England…"

"Oh my, tell me—what have I done to service your sense of humor now?" Slowly, the shaggy blonde asked.

"Because, dude, you're like so afraid of the rain, you totally needed a hero to come hug you and make it better!" The reply earned the American an elbow in the gut. He wheezed, "Dude, uncool…" England smirked at his own display of power. "But, deserved." The small man paused cautiously, "Besides, I don't need a hero. I just need the sunshine."

Confused, America scratched his head, still cradling his soon to bruise torso with a free hand. "I don't like the rain either! Way too unhappy, man!" he replied, instead of removing himself from the bed like England had suggested so clearly; though the smaller blonde's body language bespoke the opposite.

"I suppose you are correct, the rain is quite unhappy, but I still enjoy it from time to time," England replied with a soft hum, smiling sadly, curling his knees up toward his chest. "Enjoy it? Why do you enjoy being sad, England?" Curiously, America pushed for an answer, going so far as to lean up for a better view on England's expression.

His eyes were closed, though the sad smile still remained as he replied with a yawn, "I don't enjoy being sad, my boy. I merely said I enjoy the rain. Without the rain we cannot be reminded of the reasons we should be happy now. Without the rain there is too much sunshine, and we again cannot be reminded of why we need the sunshine," A soft, wide yawn paused him, "does it matter, Alfred? Go to sleep,"

"But you told me to leave… dude, you're like a washing machine!"

"Shut up and sleep, you dolt!"

Full of questions and the silent motive to get to cuddle up to the small nation, America closed his eyes; content to be warm and safe on a rainy night. Just like old times.

**.x.**

When America arrived home a couple of days later, he felt refreshed with a renowned vigor. He was humming a soft, happy little tune to himself when he opened the door to his own bedroom. "Though the mountains divide," he continued his soft hum into words, removing his coat and draping it lazily upon the chair by his desk, "..and the oceans are wide," he paused, turning to face his bed, "it's a small, small…" The sight of his bed paused the tune abruptly.

"…world?" The word popped out as a question the moment the duffle bag in his hand dropped to the floor with a soft 'thunk' against the hardwood. Confused, he scratched at the back of his neck, stepping toward the bed and reaching toward the letter laying calmly upon his pillow. Without regard for the paper, he tore at the envelope, then smiling softly at its contents.

Anonymously scripted across the notecard (in England's handwriting) were the words: '_Happy Birthday, Sunshine_.'


End file.
